All that Glitters
by SkyFire2
Summary: If I summarized it, I'd give the story away! Argh! Main character is young Legolas! *g* My first non-humor LotRFic. FINISHED! Please R/R.
1. Lost in Mirkwood

All That Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. *sob* Wish they were. Plotbunnies are mine, though. Don't steal 'em; feed   
'em! *g*  
  
A/N:1)Title adapted from Bilbo's poem about Aragorn, recited in the book LotR:FotR, in the chapter   
entitled "the Council of Elrond" and in the chapter "Strider" in the text of Gandalf's letter.   
"All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;  
The old that is strong does not wither,  
Deep roots are not reached by the frost."  
There's one more verse, but this is the only one that applies (sort of) to this story.  
  
2)Thoughts are in / /.  
  
Please leave me a review!! My plotbunnies really, really appreciate it! Let me know what you   
think of this, hmm? This is my first non-humor LotRFic.  
  
*****  
All That Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
It was late afternoon. The warm sun cast its light down into the Mirkwood through the occasional   
breaks in the forest canopy high above the ground. Down below, enough sun seeped in to give the   
air almost a green glow, even though very little direct sunlight made it down that far.   
Outsiders may have thought the forest gloomy, but its inhabitants thought it otherwise. The tops   
of the great trees swayed in the strong wind, though below it came only as an occasional faint   
breeze.  
  
Legolas paid little attention to the beauty of the forest that was his home, for he was scared   
and running. He had been running for most of the afternoon and his thin sides ached, and his   
footing was no longer as sure as it had been. Sweat sheened his face and dampened his chin-length   
blond hair.  
  
Still, he ran.  
  
  
  
His father, King Thranduil of the Mirkwood Elves, had had a meeting with his council that   
afternoon and the young Prince had taken the opportunity to slip away from his guardian that   
morning and sneak out into the forest to explore.  
  
  
  
He cast a wide-eyed glance back over his shoulder, checking to see if his pursuer was still there.   
  
He breathed in harsh gulps through his mouth, each surge of air greeted by a faint whistling   
sound as it passed through the space left the week before when one of his front baby teeth had   
fallen out.  
  
  
  
Once out into the forest, he set about exploring, moving further and further out without even   
noticing. It was so exciting to be out on his own for the first time, without his guard to tell   
him what he could or could not do. No one to tell him not to get dirty, or not to touch that   
toad, or to get up out of the dirt and act like a Prince!  
  
At last, tired of exploring and starting to get a little hungry, the young Prince turned to go   
back home, but then stopped cold. He turned another way, but that way didn't seem right, either.   
He spun, staring wildly around at trees that were not in the least bit familiar to him. Which   
way was home?  
  
Tears begun to well up in his green eyes and he shivered despite the day's warmth. He wasn't   
having fun anymore. He wanted to go home! He looked around at trees that no longer looked   
interesting and inviting, but dark and cold and forbidding. And entirely unfamiliar.  
  
A whimper rose in his throat, but he bit it back with all of the youthful pride he had left.  
  
/Which way?/ he wondered. /Father always told me not to wander if I ever got lost. But then he   
and my guards were always close. No one even knows I'm not hiding in the palace. They won't   
even think to look for me out here!/  
  
This time a whimper *did* escape. He sat down on the forest floor, hugged his knees to his chest.   
He didn't cry. But he did whimper loudly for maybe half an hour.  
  
Then he stood, determined to find his way home to his Father and the scolding he knew that he   
deserved. He looked around and, since he didn't know how to tell cardinal directions, picked a   
direction at random and started walking.  
  
Unfortunately for him, he chose to head almost straight South, almost directly opposite from home.  
  
He started to run, wanting to get home as soon as possible.  
  
An hour later, still nothing looked familiar. If anything, it looked even scarier, darker, not   
wholesome like the part of the forest that the Elves lived in. He slowed to a stop, looked   
around, panting quietly. He knew now that he'd gone the wrong way, and that now he stood in the   
dangerous woods of South Mirkwood. His skin crawled as he remembered the stories his nurse used   
to tell him about this place. Stories about monsters that lived in these woods and ate little   
Elves; the giant spiders, goblins, even wargs!  
  
A branch snapped off to one side of him and he spun to face the noise, heart rising in his throat.   
/Monsters!/ he thought. He stared hard in that direction, but saw nothing. Then a motion from   
above caught his eye and he looked up.  
  
A short cry of terror escaped him as a giant spider quickly dropped down at him, forelegs   
reaching out to grab him, mandibles clicking hungrily. He barely managed to dodge the monster,   
then he turned and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him.  
  
West.  
  
The spider clicked in disappointment at the escape of the tender, juicy young morsel, then set   
off in bounding pursuit.  
  
The rest of the afternoon was spent running, as the young Elf sought to escape the spider and the   
spider tried to pounce on and sting the small one.  
  
By late afternoon, Legolas and the spider were close to the western edge of Mirkwood, maybe two   
hundred yards from open fields. If he had known, the Elf could have ran out of the forest there,   
for the spider would not go out into the open. As it was, he zigzagged back deeper into the   
trees and never knew how close he'd been.  
  
It was on one of his frequent glances back over his shoulder that the ground betrayed him. His   
foot caught on something, he didn't know what, and sent him tumbling head over heels down the   
rocky side of a narrow ravine that had been hidden by ferns around its narrow opening. His head   
hit a stone at the bottom and all of a sudden he felt strangely disconnected from all that was   
happening. He lay limp there at the bottom of the ravine. He could feel the vague ache of small   
cuts and bruises he'd taken in the tumble, the throbbing pain of the ankle of the foot that had   
caught, the spiking pain from his head hitting the stone. He stared motionlessly upward, saw the   
spider try repeatedly to reach him with a claw-ended foreleg, heard its shriek of anger as it   
couldn't fit enough of its bulk into the narrow opening in the ground.  
  
Then darkness closed in on his mind and he lost consciousness.  
  
  
TBC...  
  
So, what do you think? Should I continue?   
Feed a plotbunny, save an author! Click the button!! *g* 


	2. Rescued! Or not.

All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
For disclaimer, see part 1.  
  
A/N:1) Well, here's part 2. I had written part 2, but then after, I decided that too much of it   
wasn't in Legolas' POV, so I scrapped it. The second version was totally from L.'s POV, but was   
just missing something. In the end, I stuck the two together. It's way longer than I had   
planned, but hey. Let me know about it, hmm?  
  
2)For those of you who were wondering just *how* young Legolas is in this fic, the answer is I   
don't know what the actual years would be. The Legolas I see in my head when I write this looks   
like this, if it helps: He's small, maybe four and a half feet tall. He's got skinny arms and   
legs, and no baby fat around his middle, either. He's still got most of his baby teeth, though   
he's already losing them (in this fic, he's missing a front baby tooth *g*). His hair is chin-  
length and left loose. He's got a small face and humongeous green eyes (you know how much bigger   
the eyes seem to be in kids). I don't even know how old this would be in human kids' ages, let   
alone Elves'. *shrug*  
  
Please review, hmm? I posted the announcement to 4 mls, totaling over 600 people. I don't think   
that at least 10 reviews per chapter is too much to ask, considering that. Do you? Come on! Even   
if you review anonymously, I still want to hear from you!!  
  
*****  
All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
Part 2  
  
"Look! One of the spiders has something trapped," a rough, gravely voice said. He pointed.   
"What do you think it's got?"  
  
"It's really trying to get at it, whatever it is," came a second voice, sounding much like the   
first. "It wouldn't try that hard for goblins or wargs. Not even for forest animals. The only   
thing those giant spiders hate enough to try this hard for would be-"  
  
"Elves!" a third voice broke in.  
  
"And that means," came the frist voice, "if we get rid of the spider, the Elf'll feel grateful   
that we saved his life. That means-"  
  
"Reward money!" the second said.  
  
The three smiled at each other, greed sparking in each eye, dripping from each smile. They pulled   
out their weapons, worn battle-axes, then charged the spider.  
  
The spider itself reacted with startling speed to the attack, bounding away backwards, then   
charging at them in quick rushes, shrieking loudly, angrily, forelegs clawing at the three. When   
it got nothing for its efforts but a split claw, it once again bounded back, then lifted itself   
up on its hind legs and shot some of its sticky web forward, spinnerets pulsing.  
  
The three managed to evade the spider-thread, then closed on the spider, attacking from three   
directions at once. Their axes glanced off the body's hard outer shell, merely shaving the hairy   
beast in spots, though they sliced neatly enough through the joints.  
  
Soon, the spider only had three legs left, and only two of those still had their claws.  
  
At last, one of the three managed to chop through the join between the spider's head and its body,   
sending the head rolling to the ground even as the body collapsed to the forest floor with a loud   
thud.  
  
"That was worth it just to get the thing to stop shrieking," the third voice said.  
  
"Idiot. Don't forget *why* we did this," came the first voice.  
  
"Let's go claim our reward," the second said.  
  
Axes still dripping with spider-goop, the three went to where the spider had been trying to widen   
the narrow opening in the ground. They looked down into the ravine... And groaned.  
  
*This* was not the expensively-clad, elegant, embarrassed-at-being-rescued-by-dwarves Elf-Lord   
they had been expecting to see. *This* was a not-even-half-grown Elf-brat dressed in fine but   
dirty clothes, blood on his face as he lay unconscious at the bottom of the ravine. He didn't   
even look old enough to be out alone.  
  
"All that effort," groaned the second dwarf, "wasted!"  
  
"Perhaps not," the first said. He slid down into the crack in the earth with the boy, went over   
to him. "Kid's dressed well. Really well. Rich-like well."  
  
"You want us to sell his clothes?" the third asked, scratching his head in confusion.  
  
"No, idiot!" the first cursed. He lifted the limp form, draped him over one shoulder and climbed   
back up. "He's probably from some rich Elf family. They'll pay to get him back." He dumped the   
boy to the forest floor. He knelt down beside him, began to shake the slim shoulders. "Let's   
see who he is."  
  
  
  
Legolas regained consciousness to find someone shaking him. He moaned; the shaking was making   
the throbbing in his head hurt worse.  
  
The shaking stopped.  
  
He lifted weighted eyelids, looked around him. The soft morning light revealed that he was no   
longer lying in the ravine but on the forest floor beside it. The spider that had been chasing   
him lay dead not far away, chopped to pieces.  
  
"Are you awake yet?" a rough, gravely voice asked in crude Sindarin.  
  
He looked to the sound of the voice, stared, eyes wide. Three people stood there, close beside   
him. Legolas had never before seen such strange people as these three! They were not Elves,   
that was certain; they lacked the pointed ears and slender gracefulness associated with folk of   
Legolas' race. The trio were broad of shoulder, with strong arms and legs, and hair that grew on   
their faces- in fact, it practically covered them! Even stranger, though they were clearly full-  
grown, they were nearly the same height as the young Elf; he was maybe a finger or two taller,   
though they easily outweighed him some five or six times over.  
  
Who were they? *What* were they?  
  
"Now, boy," the rough voice said again. It came from the stranger with black hair. "What is   
your name? Who are you?"  
  
Legolas looked at the three, one with black hair, one with blond, one with red. "Legolas," the   
boy whispered. His head hurt, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. "Legolas, son of Thranduil,   
of North Mirkwood."  
  
"Thranduil?" the blond dwarf asked. "Isn't he the King?"  
  
"Yes," Legolas answered. He saw a strange light come into their eyes. He didn't recognize the   
emotion behind it, but those looks made him think that perhaps he shouldn't have confirmed that   
for them. He shifted, uncomfortable under their gaze. "Why?"  
  
"He will reward us for rescuing you from the spider?" the redhead asked.  
  
"Reward?" the young Elf asked, confused.  
  
"Yes. Reward. He will pay us well if we bring you back safe, will he not?"  
  
"I... I don't know," Legolas answered. The three were starting to frighten him. They would only   
help him if his father would pay them? He wanted to go home!  
  
The young Elf climbed slowly to his feet. His head pounded, his ankle sent spikes of pain up his   
leg when he tried to put any significant weight on it. His stomach rumbled hungrily. Legolas   
turned, picked a direction and started walking, hobbling along as fast as his injured ankle would   
let him, which wasn't very fast. As luck would have it, the direction he'd picked *would* take   
him where he wanted to go.  
  
"Oi! Where do you think you're going?" asked the blond.  
  
"Home," he said simply, not stopping.  
  
He heard heavy footsteps approach him from behind. Then his arm was seized and he was swung   
around to fall to the leaf-covered ground. He cried out in surprise and pain as he landed.  
  
"No," said the small, hairy man who had grabbed him. "Not until we get our reward."  
  
"I want to go home *now*!" the Elf said. He stood once again, made to leave, was flung to the   
ground once more. He looked up, saw that the other two had joined their companion and that the   
three now stood around him in a triangle. Why didn't they let him go home?  
  
"No," said the man again. "You will be staying with us for a while."  
  
"What?" Legolas asked as he was pulled to his feet by the blond's tight grip on his upper arm.   
They were keeping him? No! He didn't want to stay with them! He wanted to go *home*! He   
kicked the other hard in the shin, hop-running away as quickly as he could when the other cried   
out in pain and released his hold.  
  
The sounds of his own escape flled his ears; the dead leaves that crackled under his feet, the   
twigs that snapped as he passed, the harsh gasps for air and their accompanying faint whistle.  
  
He was taken completely by surprise when the harsh hand grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to   
a stop. A short cry of surprise escaped him at the abruptness of his recapture, then another as   
he was tossed ungently over his captor's shoulder and carried back to the others. He yelled for   
help the whole way, and squirmed and kicked and hit with his hands and feet.  
  
This time when he was dropped to the ground, he was held down as his wrists and ankles were tied   
with rope.  
  
"What are you doing? Stop that!" Legolas said as they tied him. He tried to fight back, but   
they held him tightly. "Let me go! I don't want to go with you! Let me go! Help!"  
  
"Bind his mouth or he'll have every creature in Mirkwood down on us!" hissed the black-haired one.  
  
Emerald eyes widened as the blond turned to him, smiling viciously, a strip of cloth in one hand.   
"No! You can't! No!" Then he could say nothing more as his mouth was gagged securely. He   
glared.  
  
Black-hair grabbed up the bound Elf-boy, slung him gracelessly over one broad shoulder, then   
began walking. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home. We can think about what to ask for the brat   
after we get there."  
  
The other two fell in beside him and together they walked.  
  
Legolas, empty stomach getting pounded by the other's shoulder with every step, was helpless to   
do aught but stare around at the ground as they passed, and back at the trees as every step took   
him further and further from his home and his father.  
  
Tears welled up in his green eyes even as loneliness and fear joined the hunger and homesickness   
that already churned inside him.  
  
  
TBC...  
  
What did you think? Let me know. Feed me and my plotbunnies with reviews, even if it's just a   
smilie or an "I liked it!" Please? Click the button!! 


	3. Pursued by Elves...

All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
For disclaimer, see part 1.  
  
Please review!  
  
*****  
All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
part 3  
  
The three dwarves were cursing both constantly and creatively, and had been for hours now.  
  
Legolas smiled to himself. Apparently, after no one had been able to find him in the Palace that   
was home, his father had realized what it was that the young Elf must have done. Now, as the sun   
sank into the horizon for the second time since he'd slipped out into the wood, roving groups of   
Elves patrolled the Mirkwood, calling out his name, searching for tracks. Some groups even had   
some of Thranduil's hunting hounds, searching for the young one's scent. Legolas was sure that   
the next morning would dawn with him safely tucked into his own bed at home, away from the three   
dwarves that wanted to keep him.  
  
The dwarves and their captive had been forced to hide often, and so their trek back to their   
house was lengthened by several hours.  
  
Legolas didn't make it any easier on them either. Slung over one broad dwarven shoulder, he   
squirmed, kicked with bound feet, hit with tied hands, screaming as loud as he could through the   
gag whenever he heard one of the groups of roving Elves nearby, the sound being quickly muffled   
by a hard, callused dwarven hand.  
  
Then a loud baying was heard as first one hound then others found the young Prince's trail,   
followed it. The wandering groups of Elves converged on the dogs, following swiftly behind them   
as the dogs raced on, following the scent.  
  
The black-haired dwarf cursed, then grabbed the squirming young Elf up into his arms. "Run!" he   
hissed.  
  
And they ran.  
  
The Elves and hunting dogs ran faster, gained ground steadily.  
  
  
  
"Halt!"  
  
The clear Elven order snapped through the air between the Elves and their now-visible dwarven   
quarry.  
  
The dwarves kept running.  
  
Dogs were leashed even as the pursuit became even more heated. A small group of the twenty   
swiftest Elves quickly outdistanced the others, closed on the three dwarves that had their young   
Prince, bows ready.  
  
Then the dwarves were overtaken, surrounded in a somewhat rocky valley. The ground sloped gently   
down towards them on one side, the other was a nearly vertical rock face that rose perhaps fifty   
feet into the air, full of dark crevices.  
  
"Release the Prince," one of the Elves ordered.  
  
The dwarves, backs to the rock face, looked around them to the Elves that stood on three sides of   
them, bows drawn and ready. "When we get paid," said the black-haired one even as he and the   
other two edged back, closer to the rock. Legolas, still struggling, was held firmly around the   
middle by black-hair.  
  
"Paid?" another Elf asked. "For what? You stole away our Prince! The only payment you will get   
shall be the sharp ends of our speeding arrows!"  
  
Red-hair frowned. "Maybe we should let him go," he said.  
  
Ignoring him, the black-haired dwarf answered the Elf. "We saved him from the giant spider," he   
said. "He had some injuries and we were bringing him to our home to help him. He said he was   
lost. We thought to send word to the Elves of Mirkwood that we had found him, once he was well.   
But he wanted to wander around, and that is not a good thing to do in the South of the forest, as   
you should know." He shrugged. "So we bound him, for his protection, and our own."  
  
The Elves frowned, spoke together shortly. Reaching a decision, they turned back to the dwarves.   
"Unbind his mouth," one said.  
  
After a slight hesitation, black-hair motioned red-hair to the boy. Back to most of the Elves,   
blocking their view of the young one, the red-haired dwarf reached out for the Prince.  
  
TBC...  
  
  
Hahaha... a cliffhanger ending! *g* What do you think should happen? Let my plotbunnies know;   
they see several ways this could turn out, some good for the little guy, some not-so-good. What   
do you think? *g* Click the button and let me know!   
If the button isn't working right (I noticed that it's been a bit out of it lately), you can   
always send feedback to me at: rabid_plotbunny@yahoo.ca *g* 


	4. Conflict

All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
For disclaimer, see part 1.  
  
Please review! *g*  
  
*****  
All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
Part 4  
  
Legolas glared up at the red-haired dwarf that stood in front of him, emerald eyes narrowed. He   
still squirmed in black-hair's hold, trying ceaselessly to get loose.  
  
Red-hair scowled at the young Elf even as he reached for the scrap of cloth binding the other's   
mouth. His eyes threatened all sorts of unpleasantness and pain should the boy not behave   
himself. He tugged at the knot in the fabric, loosened it.  
  
"Shoot them!" Legolas shrieked loudly as soon as the gag left his mouth. "Help me!"  
  
Black-hair cursed, pulled the young one tightly up against him to block the Elves' shots at him,   
even as he quickly backed with the other two dwarves into the dark crevice in the rock face that   
they had slowly been creeping toward the entire time after being surrounded by the Elves.  
  
Legolas was yelling the entire time; yelling for help and telling his side of the truth.  
  
"Halt!" the Elven order came again. "Release the Prince!"  
  
The rest of the Mirkwood Elves finally caught up with the faster group, joined them in   
surrounding the three dwarves and their prisoner. The Elven archers had clear shots at only one   
of the dwarves- the black-haired one was holding the young, squirming Prince too close to himself   
for them to risk a shot, for fear that one of Legolas' squirms might unintentionally put him into   
the path of an arrow, and the blond dwarf was standing hidden behind *tham*. The red-haired   
dwarf was closest to the entrance of the crevice, and had no Elf-boy to hide behind.  
  
Then there was a disturbance from the southmost of the Elven sentries. The cry went up, ringing   
clear through the forest air. "Yrch!"  
  
Then the orcs were swarming into the valley from the south, attacking the Elves with vicious glee.   
The Elven archers turned their arrows loose upon the orcs. The air darkened with the loosed   
shafts and many orcs fell, fatally pierced by many fine Elven arrows. Then the orcs were all   
among them and the Elves put away their bows and drew their swords and long knives as the fight   
became a melee.  
  
Maybe twenty minutes passed before the last orc fell to Elvish steel.  
  
The Elves, none of whom had been seriously injured in the fight, returned their attention to the   
crevice in the rock face that held the three dwarves and the young Elf.  
  
Then yet another cry of alarm went up as it was discovered that the dwarves had taken advantage   
of the distraction offered by the attack. Dwarves and Prince were gone, the crevice stood empty.   
The two Elven sentries that had been set to keep watch over the four when the orcs attacked now   
lay unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the dwarves as they made their escape.  
  
"Get the dogs!" came the snapped Elven order. "Quickly! They can't have gotten far!"  
  
  
  
Legolas, gagged once again, struggled furously as he was carried away from those who would have   
rescued him. He tried his best to get away, managing only to mark the black-haired dwarf that   
carried him over his shoulder once more with small bruises from his bound hands. He was swatted   
sharply on the rump in warning.  
  
Eyes narrowed, glaring, skin stinging from the swat, he grabbed hold of a handful of black hair   
and yanked as hard as he could, smiling at the other's loud curse.  
  
He was thrown ungently to the ground, then the three stood all around him, glaring fiercely. He   
wilted slightly under the glares, for the first time fearing for his safety.  
  
He had known that they meant to keep him until his father paid them to give him back. But even   
though they wouldn't let him leave on his own, he had never gotten the impression that they would   
hurt him.  
  
Now, though. Now, they were frustrated at his actions against them and angry at being pursued by   
the Elves, tired of being chased after like an orc at an Elvish celebration. Now, he remembered   
how they had hit those two Elves on the head, remembered seeing them fall to the ground. He   
remembered the sight of the giant spider that had chased him, remembered how it had been chopped   
to pieces. Now, he truly came to realize that the three were dangerous.  
  
They were angry, frustrated and upset, and now Legolas was truly afraid. He could only hope that   
the Elves would catch up to them again before anything bad happened to him.  
  
He shrank back in fear when black-hair approached him, eyes blazing with fury.  
  
TBC...  
  
  
Aaaaahh! *g* Yet another cliffhanger ending! Eeek! *g* My plotbunnies made me do it! Click the   
button and leave a review telling them what you think about it! *g* 


	5. The Way Home

All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
For disclaimer, see part 1.  
  
A/N: 1)I just wanted to say thank you to all the people out there who have already reviewed and   
those who hopefully will in the future. *g* It has meant a lot to my plotbunnies and I! *g*  
  
2)Okay, this is the last chapter of this story. *ducks* Let me know if you want to see a   
continuation, hmm? Like the saying goes, "There's always room for L-E-G-O-L-A-S." *g*  
  
3)Takes place immediately following the last chapter, not even a minute has gone by. *g*  
  
Please review! *g*  
  
*****  
All that Glitters  
by SkyFire  
  
Part 5  
  
The addition of that fear to the mix of emotions already surging through him was just too much   
for his poor, empty stomach to handle, and it protested. Violently.  
  
The black-haired dwarf let out a howl of outrage when the young Elf threw up all over his boots.  
  
Once the heaves were done, Legolas fell back to the forest floor, gasping and miserable. He knew   
that the dwarf he'd... decorated... would be even more upset now. He looked up fearfully,   
flinched back as he saw the black-haired dwarf standing there, hand raised to strike.  
  
Before the blow could land, however, an arrow buried its head in the ground between them.  
  
"Land that blow and you're dead where you stand, dwarf," came the Elven order, anger turning the   
usually smooth voice harsh.  
  
The Mirkwood Elves came into view all around them. All had arrows set to bowstring, bows bent   
and arrows aimed with deadly accuracy at the three dwarves.  
  
"Do not move," came the order as black-hair instinctively twitched toward the boy. "Release the   
Prince to us. Now."  
  
With a growl, black-hair drew his knife. Glaring at the boy, he roughly grabbed him by the rope   
around the ankles, pulling them closer so that he could slice through the rope, ignoring the   
boy's short cry of pain as the rough handling awoke the pain in his hurt ankle.  
  
Not even waiting for his hands to be freed, Legolas scrambled away from the three as soon as his   
ankles were freed, then climbed to his feet and limp-ran to one of the Elves, one he remembered   
seeing at home.  
  
That Elf put away his bow, instead tending to the young one. He cut the rope around the slender   
wrists, frowning in anger upon seeing the creases and purple pressure-marks left by the rope.  
  
"Are you hurt, my Prince?" he asked gently. He saw the blood on the boy's pale face, tracked the   
source to a small cut on his head, scabbed over now. The boy was all over smudged with dirt.  
  
All the tension and fear seemed to have caught up with the young Elf. He trembled, his eyes   
filling with hot tears. "M-my h-head hurts," he said, lower lip quivering, "and m-my ankle." He   
looked up at the other, green eyes shimmering pools of tears. "I threw up."  
  
The older Elf smiled sympathetically. "That's all right, my Prince," he said. "Is there   
anything else?"  
  
"I'm thirsty," the boy said. Just then his stomach decided to enter the conversation, grumbling   
loudly. Legolas blushed slightly in embarrassment when Elves even five feet away looked at him   
in pitying amusement before turning their attention back to the dwarves.  
  
"When was the last time you ate, my Prince?" the older Elf asked, frowning. The boy was, beneath   
the dirt-smears, far too pale, he thought. Of course, that could be in part because he'd just   
been sick.  
  
"At home," Legolas answered. His face scrunched up in distress and the pooled tears escaped his   
eyes, falling freely. "I want to go home," he wailed.  
  
The older Elf gathered the sobbing young Prince to him, lifted him gently. Legolas buried his   
face in the other's neck, still crying out all the fear of the last two days. Soon, the   
exhausted boy fell asleep in the other's hold, tears still running down his face even as he slept.  
  
The three dwarves, meanwhile, had had their hands bound behind them by the Elves. They stood   
there, roped together at the waist, blindfolded.  
  
"Let's go," the Elf carrying the sleeping Prince said. He glared at the three. "Legolas should   
go home, and I'm sure that King Thranduil would wish to introduce our... guests... to the dungeons   
as soon as possible."  
  
  
  
And so the Elves began the journey back to the Elven King's mountain palace. Their pace was slow,   
both because of the slumbering Elf Prince and the string of blindfolded dwarves they led.  
  
The trip itself was uneventful, as mostly every creature in Mirkwood knew better than to attack   
such a large, well-armed and alert group of Elves. The orcs had only attacked them because the   
orcs of South Mirkwood had the collective intelligence of half of a broken rock.  
  
The first golden rays of the Sun were just starting to filter down through the thick forest   
canopy when the group of Elves reached their capital.  
  
Most of the Elves split away, going to catch a well-deserved rest and tend to the minor injuries   
they'd taken in fighting off the orcs. The rest of the group- twenty or so Elves- crossed the   
bridge over the forest river and passed through Thranduil's magical gates and into the Elf King's   
palace.  
  
Legolas, just beginning to stir as he recognized the change of pace, was taken away to bed by his   
guardian.  
  
The rest of the Elves were shown into the Elf King's audience chamber, still leading the three   
dwarves.  
  
Thranduil stared at the three dwarves silently for a long moment from his elaborately carved   
throne, his dark eyes blazing. "These are the... creatures... that stole away my son?" he asked,   
voice chill with anger. He'd never truly *liked* dwarves before, but he'd alway taken care to be   
civil, for they traded in the gold, jewels and finely wrought metals that he so loved. But if   
they had taken Legolas, treated the boy ill in any way....  
  
"Yes, Sire," one of the Elves said.  
  
"We saved him from the spider!" the black-haired dwarf protested loudly. "We never hurt him. We   
deserve a reward."  
  
"Be quiet," the answering Elf said. "You gave him no food or water, and you were set to beat him   
when we caught you."  
  
"Beat him?" Thranduil asked questioningly. His face froze as that fact sank in. His eyes blazed   
fury brighter than the light of the legendary Silmarils of Feanor. "You would beat my son?" he   
raged. "Put them in the dungeon!" He turned to the Elf that had spoken. "They did not feed   
him?" he asked. At the other's negative nod, he ordered, "put them in the dungeon, and feed them   
only once every two days. They shall suffer as did my Legolas."  
  
  
  
And so the dwarves were taken and locked in the deepest, darkest, dankest dungeon cells, even as   
Legolas was fed, bathed, and put to bed. A Healer would be sent to him when he awoke, but for   
now he slept, his guardian in his place beside the bed to protect him from those who would wish   
him harm, as was his duty. During the night, he gently soothed away the young one's nightmares   
with quiet snatches of childrens' songs and stories.  
  
END  
  
  
So, what did you think of this fic? Let my rabid plotbunnies know, hmm? Should there be another   
fic after this? If so, what would you like to hear more about? *g* Let the 'bunnies know! *They*   
like to eat reviews. *I* like chocolate-covered Elf-lords. *g* 


End file.
